


Pitiful Children

by raineavon



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Inspired by Music, M/M, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change, Trans Male Character, ZADF, ZaDr, ZaGf, technically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26799313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raineavon/pseuds/raineavon
Summary: Spring break of their senior year; just an innocuous change of pace from the usual doldrums of teen life, supposedly.Changed the summary because it was really misleading beforeInspired by the song The Pitiful Children from Be More ChillOn hiatus
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35





	1. Movie Night

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is just my oneshot, Movie Night, so if you've already read that you can skip to chapter two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter is just my oneshot, Movie Night, so if you've already read that you can skip to chapter two.
> 
> So, I wasn't very happy with the third chapter here and it killed my motivation to write for a while. School has also been eating a lot of my time recently, which has made it even harder to get motivated. That being said, I didn't want to just abandon this fic; I started this and I'm going to finish it. I tried to read over what I'd already written to try and get back in a writing mood, and I just decided that I didn't like how things were formatted so I fixed it. I'm also going to fix things that I forgot to put in the notes the first time. Hopefully, this makes the fic as a whole more enjoyable to read.
> 
> Added author's notes: This chapter was not beta read. This is the first piece of writing I've done for these characters so I'm getting used to them, i.e. this chapter is primarily just for characterization purposes.

“Master, it is five hours past noon; Dib will be here shortly.”

Zim looked up at Computer’s voice and checked the time on his monitor. He rubbed his eyes and cracked his knuckles, “Thank you, Computer. Zim will proceed to the surface now. Ensure that my work is secured.”

Computer sighed, “Yes, Master.”

Zim nodded curtly as he began making his way to the elevator. He groaned, “Zim spends too much time at that desk; his eyes are burning.”

“Ever tried dark-mode?” Zim squinted up at the silhouette hovering over the opening of the elevator.

He chuckled at the boy’s smirk, “Ah, of course, why hasn’t Zim thought of that?”

Dib offered him a hand, “Where _would_ you be without me?”

_Foodcourtia… again…_ “Ruling over your pathetic planet.”

Dib rolled his eyes as he helped Zim out of the trashcan, “Sure you would. So, what are we watching?”

Zim tsked, “How quick the Dib is to change the subject; perhaps he has finally accepted Zim’s superiority.”

Dib elbowed him, “In your dreams, Spaceboy. Now answer the question, unless you forgot to pick something, again.”

Zim jumped over the arm of the couch, “That was one time, Fool-boy. Zim has selected one of your human movies tonight; Coraline. And you will say nothing of it!”

Dib laughed as he laid down on the couch, head in Zim’s lap, “Hey, no complaints here, man. It’s been too long since I’ve seen that, anyway.” Zim choked back the chirp bubbling in his throat as he turned on the television and started the film.

Movie nights were usually pretty quiet, especially when Gaz agreed to take Gir for the evening. Tonight, however, Gir was in one of the labs, running diagnostics, as Computer would be soon. The two were completely alone in the base. No prying eyes to watch Zim study the human in his lap. Zim had already memorized Dib’s features, of course; he’d done that a long time ago, when the two were still “mortal enemies.” That didn’t take away the appeal of watching the human, though. The way his brows furrowed in thought or the way his chest rose and fell with his breaths. Zim especially liked that part, when Dib would take a full, deep breath. A breath like he hadn’t taken since eighth-grade.

Zim remembered that; when Dib first began binding. It was almost six months after the boy had “come out” to Zim as transgender. Zim hadn’t understood the problem at first. When an Irken experienced such things the medics provided them with hormone replacements and antenna treatments- a distracted soldier was a useless soldier, after all- but humans were not like that. Many of them, in fact, seemed to think that it was somehow _wrong_ to be that way. That had been when Zim had first begun to realize how truly cruel humans could be… the Professor, at least, was what the humans called “accepting.”

The Dib had come into his base after telling him and excitedly proclaimed that he had finally procured a device to make him “flat”, as he had put it. The two had celebrated by going to the mall and buying Dib some new clothes. Zim had felt a strange sense of pride in his nemesis that day. …then Dib had nearly passed out during one of their battles the next day and Zim learned that these binders were very much _not_ safe to wear at all times as the Dib had said. From then on, Zim relentlessly pestered the boy about how long and how tight he had been wearing his “mammilla concealment device.” Only because it wouldn’t do for their battles to be interrupted by a piece of fabric, of course. But Zim didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

He remembered that day, too, much more recent, when he and the Gaz-sister had accompanied Dib to the hospital for his surgery. Zim smiled, thinking about how excited the human had been; Dib had been bouncing off the walls in the waiting room. Zim remembered when the procedure was over and he was allowed to greet his friend. He had walked in to see the boy crying and had felt his squeedily-spooch tighten at the sight. The hand unconsciously running through Dib’s hair clenched briefly at the memory. Zim had rushed to his side to ask him what was wrong, only to see the boy smile at him. “Look, Spaceboy,” he had said, “I’m finally flat.”

Zim had breathed a sigh of relief and responded, “Indeed you are, you horrible stink-beast.” They had laughed. Later, Zim had found out exactly why the Dib hadn’t ever wanted to be seen on anesthetics. The boy had sung and screamed and all the other horribly embarrassing things a man could do in two hours. Zim had recorded all this, of course.

And now, his Dib could breathe freely.

Now, Zim was free to watch the rise and fall of his chest.

To watch this glorious disaster of a man run and laugh and simply exist with one less weight on his soul.

Zim was sure that this is what the humans meant when they talked about beauty. What else could it be?

Zim exhaled as he gingerly angled his antennae towards Dib. He could hear the human’s pulse and smell… whatever it was that was so uniquely _Dib_ underneath the cologne and soap. Strawberry soap, specifically, which the boy always smelled very strongly of on movie nights. Zim chuckled at the small, sweet gesture. “What’s so funny, Lizard?” Dib lamely asked without taking his eyes off the screen.

Zim pinched his arm, “Nothing. It’s just that the Dib-beast’s hair tickles Zim’s antennae.”

Zim realized his mistake immediately. Dib gave a dark chuckle as he began to shift, “So you _are_ ticklish! I knew it!”

Zim threw his head back indignantly, “Of course not! Zim is an Irken Invader; I _have_ no such weaknesses. That the Dib would even sug- what are you doing?”

Dib did not respond. He had changed positions so that he was now sitting on Zim’s lap, and he had taken one of Zim’s antennae between two fingers. He began rubbing the bit under his thumb. He waited to see if Zim would stop him; he didn’t. The boy took the other stalk in his hand and replicated the motion. He thought for a moment. “Hey Zim,” the Irken hummed in acknowledged, “I’m not like, committing some weird social taboo or something, right?”

“You have already seen Zim out of uniform, what more can be done? But no, there is nothing wrong with touching Zim’s antennae,” Zim assured him.

“Cool,” Dib trailed off, “Does it actually tickle?”

Zim raised a brow-bone at him, “Does it look like it?”

Dib chuckled, “No, it doesn’t. …I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Zim purred reassuringly, “No. It actually feels quite nice; like a massage.”

Dib hummed, “Cool. You wanna switch places so we can finish the movie?” Zim nodded and waited for Dib to move. Once he had Zim stood up and stretched his legs while Dib sat down. He moved to sit on the boy’s lap and leaned back into his chest. Dib took the tips of Zim’s antennae in his palms and began running his thumbs along their points, “That good?”

Zim purred again, “Yeah... I’m not hurting your scars, am I?”

Dib chuckled, “Someone’s tired. And nah, you’re good.” Zim nodded and returned to the film.

* * *

Zim did not make it through to the credits. He fell asleep curled into Dib’s chest and woke up in his bed with a note saying that Dib would be back once he’d archived the blackmail photos he took.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed it! If you have any suggestions/critiques, please tell me! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!
> 
> Added notes: Wow, I never realized just how dialogue heavy my writing was until now


	2. Interest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added author's note: this chapter was beta read by a friend of mine, so kudos to them for reading a fic from a fandom they know nothing about lol (Seriously though, their feedback helps me a lot and they did read chapter one but only after I already posted it and nothing really changed so)

Zim rubbed his antennae as the elevator rose. One of his experiments had quite literally blown up in his face and the ashes that settled on them felt itchy and masked the usual bleach-y scent of the labs. The Irken groaned as he reached the level of his base one might call his room. He moved quickly to the cleaning station on the opposite wall. 

Zim winched at his reflection in the mirror, “Zim looks like a cleaning drone…” He sighed and reached for his cleansing chalk. He gently rubbed it along the lengths of his antennae. Eventually, he set the bar down and inspected his reflection once more. He nodded at the moderate level of cleanliness he had achieved as he began to remove his lab coat. He tossed the blackened garments into the base’s laundry shoot and stepped into the sanitation closet next to his mirror.

Zim stepped out of the closet and returned to the mirror. He scrutinized his reflection, silently worrying that his tattoos might be hiding some of the ash. He sighed again as he gave up on the Mirror-Zim and turned towards his closet. He pulled on a pair of leggings and a black mesh shirt. “A little dull, isn’t it?” Computer’s voice teasingly asked. 

“Zim doesn’t remember asking,” he replied flippantly as he reached for one of his pink jackets. “What do you want, anyway?” he added as he pulled the jacket on. 

“Dib is waiting for you upstairs, Master,” they replied dryly. 

“Ah, thank you, then. Inform him that Zim will be up shortly,” Zim replied a little eagerly. 

Computer groaned, “Fine.” Zim rolled his eyes and grabbed his gloves. He stepped into the elevator and began his assent.

Zim could hear Dib speaking to Gir as he approached ground-level, “Gir, for the last time, I’m not taking you to the taco place.” 

Zim cringed at Gir’s loud sobbing, “But whhhyy nooot?” 

Zim heard Dib groan in annoyance, “Because the last time I  _ did _ , you tried to eat  _ another _ Baby! I barely managed to stop you!” 

Gir chuckled, “I know.” Zim climbed out of the elevator just in time to see Dib clap a hand on his forehead and begin to drag it down his face. Zim shook his head as he walked toward them. Gir looked up at him excitedly, “Hey, Masta! Mary’s home!” 

Zim patted Gir on the head as he spoke, “No, Gir. The Dib lives in his own house; he just visits us.” Gir shook his head.

He was obviously about to object when Computer decided to chime in, “Gir, didn’t Master tell you to clean up your toys two hours ago?” 

Gir nodded enthusiastically, “Yep!” 

Computer sighed, “Then why are they still all over the floor in the lab?” 

Gir scratched his chin thoughtfully, “I don’t know,” he gasped, “Maybe da mice-es did it!” Despite their lack of a face, the thoroughly disbelieving expression Computer wore was evident. 

They sighed, “There  _ are no _ mice in the base, Gir.” 

Zim nodded in agreeance, “But even if there were, the toys are still yours and you should take care of them. Now, go to the labs and pick them up.” 

Gir tugged on Zim’s sleeve, “But what about da mice-es?” 

Zim sighed, “No feeble Urth-vermin stands a chance against Zim’s impenetrable defenses… But Zim will check, if it, eh, makes you feel better?” Dib chuckled at Zim’s awkward parenting. Gir, at least, seemed satisfied. The Sir-Unit giggled giddily as he flipped himself onto his head and began bouncing towards the trash can. 

Once Gir had left, Zim turned toward Dib with an exasperated sigh. The human laughed good-naturedly. “Rough night?” he asked, gesturing to the pronounced circles under Zim’s oculars. 

Zim groaned, “Morning, actually. Something Zim has been working on may have... exploded, about an hour ago.” 

Dib moved worriedly to him, “Seriously? Are you alright?” 

Zim fought the urge to reach for his human’s twitching hands, “Yes, Dib-smell, Zim is fine. It was only a minor setback, more of an annoyance than anything. Took forever to clean off the soot…” 

Dib hummed thoughtfully, “You remembered to switch out your navel bar, right?” 

Zim blanched and immediately went to pull up his shirt. “Dammit. Zim knew he was forgetting something,” he muttered. 

Dib shook his head as he walked into the kitchen to retrieve the cleansing chalk stored in the cabinet. “Calm down,” the boy urged, “it’s not that big a deal… cool, no bacon.” He hurried over to give Zim the soap. 

Zim hissed as he took it. “Not a big deal, Smelly? That  _ filthy  _ thing was  _ inside _ Zim!” he shrieked before throwing the mildly sooty jewelry at Dib. 

The human cleared his throat, “Jeez, okay, I get it. At least it’s not a fresh piercing, so it’s not like you got anything in your bloodstream. Anyway, now you get to wear this.” The boy finished, drawing a small box out of his pocket and handing it to Zim. 

Zim’s antennae perked up when he saw the box, “What’s the occasion?” 

Dib shrugged, “I just thought you’d like it… it made me think of you when I saw it.” Zim squinted an eye at him but didn’t say anything. He turned his attention back to the box in his hands. He lifted the lid and began unwrapping the paper inside. He lifted the thin layer of cotton to reveal a small, silver lizard with pink eyes. Zim looked at the shiny stones, noting the small streaks of orange in them. “Opals,” Dib supplied, “they’re pink opals.” 

Zim looked up at Dib, “…Did you really just spend your own monies to call Zim a lizard?” 

Dib lightly thumped him on the shoulder, “Maybe.”

“Zim has nothing to say to you, get out,” he groaned whilst putting the jewelry in. 

Dib laughed, “Too bad, I was gonna take you somewhere fun.” Zim perked his antennae up a little, excited by the prospect of getting out of the base for a while. Dib noticed the silent queue and continued, “There’s this little bakery downtown that just opened up, which makes it one of four you aren’t banned from yet. It’s supposed to be really good. I thought you might wanna try it.” Dib shrugged after he finished. 

Zim clicked the two ends of the new piercing into place before responding, “Yes, Zim wishes to ‘get out’, the base is beginning to feel… box-y.” He was already started toward the tile that would trigger the base to deliver his disguise when he finished speaking. 

Dib stepped towards him from his spot on the other side of the couch, “Cool, do you want to walk or take my car?” 

The Irken grimaced, “Zim is never getting into another car if the Dib is driving; we will walk.”

Dib raised his hands before reaching down to straighten Zim’s perfectly straight wig. “Alright, alright,” the boy conceded before opening the door for Zim. He nodded as he walked out the door. They walked out past the garden gnomes before taking an abrupt left towards the bakery. “So, what were you working on?” Dib looked at Zim expectantly. 

“Zim was working on a small... ‘life-support’ thingy,” he responded quickly, hoping Dib would take the hint and drop it. 

Of course, the human did not, “Life-support? Like a replacement pak? Or the boring, human kind?” 

Zim scoffed, mildly insulted, “No, not the human kind, but… it’s not exactly like a pak, either. It’s… special.” 

Dib cocked an eyebrow at him, “Why?” 

Zim bit the inside of his lip as he tried to come up with a passable excuse. He returned his gaze to Dib’s, “Because Zim can.” He quickened his pace to cut off whatever Dib’s response would be; he really didn’t want to try to explain this “project” he’d been working on to his human... not yet anyway. 

* * *

“Right,” Dib supplied. 

The human had been casually giving these single-word directions for the past fifteen minutes like it was normal that the two had detoured into one of the quiet “historical streets” of downtown without any explanation. Zim was beginning to grow annoyed. Even if the comfortable silence they’d been enjoying was a welcomed change from the ever-moving mechanical chatter of the base, the fact that Dib was being so quiet was vaguely unsettling; after all, the Dib’s silence had almost always meant bad things before. “How much farther is this place, Dib-thing,” Zim asked with exasperation in his tone. 

“Not much farther,” the boy responded. He raised their conjoined hands to point at an approaching intersection, “Just one more left and we’re practically there.” 

Zim mentally consulted his maps of the area. “Wouldn’t it have been quicker to just go the usual route?” Zim asked, annoyed. 

Dib shrugged, “Well, yeah, but it’s a nice day out, thought it might be nice to go on a walk.” Admittedly, it had been a nice walk. Zim nodded slightly as they continued forward. 

They entered the bakery and Zim’s antennae were immediately assaulted by the thick smell of the various pastries that were being sold. He stood at the threshold for a moment, getting used to the strong scents. Dib squeezed his hand, silently questioning if he was alright. Zim nodded and stepped further into the establishment. They stepped up to the counter and waited for service. 

“Hello, what can I get you?” the person behind the counter asked politely. Zim squeezed Dib’s hand as a signal to order while he surveyed the menu on the back wall. 

“I’ll have a caramel macchiato and… two cinnamon swirl coffee-cakes, please.” Zim chuckled at what Dib called his “customer voice.” At least half an octave higher than his normal tone, words drawn out or cut short in ways the human never did normally; Zim found it hilarious. 

The food-service-drone behind the counter paid it no attention though, “Alright, and for you, tiz?” 

Zim brought his gaze down to meet the attendant’s eyes, “Zim will have one hot chocolate.” 

The person nodded as they typed in the order, “Okay, that will be fifteen dollars and sixty-six cents.” Dib handed them his debit card. Zim looked away, as he’d learned you were supposed to do, when Dib began imputing his pin number. 

The server handed Dib a number-card and he led Zim to a tall table in the corner, by a window. Dib’s hand entwined with Zim’s once more once they were both seated. The human was being… touchier than he usually was in public. Zim began rubbing small circles on the boy’s skin with his thumb. “Is the Dib-stink okay?” he asked tentatively. 

Dib looked at him questioningly, “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Zim squeezed his hand a little, “You’re usually not so... affectionate in public.” Dib shrugged, “Is it a problem?” 

Zim looked down at their linked hands, “No… Zim just worries that this is one of your strange human thingies; the ones where you say one thing and mean another.” 

Dib chuckled, “Aww, you  _ do _ care; how sweet.” 

Zim’s face flushed purple, “Shut up.” Dib laughed like Zim had just told the greatest joke he’d ever heard; the Irken would be lying if he said he didn’t like it. His chest swelled as he watched his human, his embarrassment forgotten. 

A new service-drone came to their table just as Dib finished laughing. She placed their food on the table and turned expectantly to Dib, “Do either of you need anything else?” Zim shook his head. 

“I think we’re good for now, thanks,” Dib responded. Zim chuckled again at his “customer voice.” Dib turned back to Zim, smiling, “She seems nice.” 

Zim nodded as he took a small sip of his drink, “Yes, you should give her extra monies when we leave.” 

Dib hummed as he sipped his own drink, “Yeah, this place is so new, she could probably use the tips… I should put a few dollars in the jar on the counter, too.” 

Zim took a tentative bite of his cake, worried it would be too bitter. The Irken sighed in enjoyment when he found that the caramel masked the bite of the coffee enough to land in that pleasant sweet spot between the two flavors. “Definitely,” he said while he enjoyed the treat. Dib smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

* * *

“So, Zim,” the Irken looked up from his nearly empty drink, “I’ve been thinking, and this is our last year of highskool…” 

Zim arched a brow at him, “Yes, Zim knows this?” 

Dib’s cheeks reddened, “I know you know, but… just let me talk for a minute okay?” Zim nodded. “Okay, so if this is our senior year, that means our senior prom is coming up. A-and if our senior prom is happening then, uh-” the boy was cut abruptly short by his ringing phone. Zim coughed and downed the last of his now lukewarm chocolate, trying to calm the heat he could feel on his cheeks. He breathed deeply in an effort to alleviate some of the tightness in his chest. Dib groaned, “I’m so sorry, it’s my dad. I have to go.” 

Zim swallowed, “Yes, well it’s getting late anyway and Zim does not wish to be out at night.” 

Dib nodded, “I can walk home with you though, I need to get my car anyway.” 

Zim shook his head, “No, that’s fine. Zim needs to pick up a few things before returning to the base.” Dib bit his lip but didn’t say anything. He got up, put ten dollars down on the table, kissed Zim on the cheek, and hurriedly walked out the door. Zim noted that he still took the time to drop another ten dollar bill in the tip jar. 

Zim sat in his chair, face almost completely purple now. His squeedily-spooch contracted almost painfully and his chest felt like it was going to burst. “He kissed me,” he breathed, “He kissed me and he was about to ask me out.” He buried his face in his palms and fought back the tirade of chirps and purring he could feel at the back of his throat, “He kissed me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Once again, please leave any suggestions you have in the comments; I'm very new to writting fanfiction and you're feedback will really help me improve. Other than that, thank you again, and have a nice day!


	3. Moth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter that isn't from Zim's point of view and it's considerably worse than the others... not really sure what that says about me. Anyway, I'm using this character to practice with a set of pronouns that I'm not used to (xe/xem/xyr) and it is more than likely that I made some mistakes, so if you find any please tell me so that I can correct them. Thank you!
> 
> Added notes: This chapter has not been beta read. I've fixed some small parts of this that I didn't like along with the formatting issues.

The clone roughly dragged a hand through xyr hair, pulling at it as xe went. “I swear to god, if this isn’t important…” xe muttered. Comforting, empty threats spilled from xyr lips as xe walked the desolate halls of xyr “home.” Xe weaved through the wires dangling from the ceilings near xyr maker’s laboratory. Xe could hear the little robot doing something that might have been working at a computer, muttering to hirself all the while. Xe exhaled nervously and entered the threshold.

The little virus was indeed working at the large computer on the back wall, wiry arms stretching down from the roof to type on the keyboard. “You called for me, Master?” the human tentatively asked.

Pia didn’t bother turning to face xem, “Yes. Dib woke up while you were out; he broke his shoulder. Go deal with it.”

The fake tensed at xyr creator’s cold tone, “Of course, Master.” Xe turned to walk away, but stopped short.

“Human.”

Xe swallowed as xe turned towards the cold voice, “Yes, Master?”

“Were you sucessful?” the spidery abomination asked.

The clone bit xyr lip, “No, Master. I was looking for an opening when you summoned me.” Xe braced himself for the inevitable blow. Pia spun around, one of hir auxiliary appendages whipping around and striking the human in the face.

“Idiot! I ordered you- You- you insolent, disobedient, _defective _, beast!”__

____

The fake trembled in place, tasting the blood now gushing out of xyr bottom lip. “Master,” xe pleaded, “I’m sorry. That street was too isolated; Zim was too aware. He would have noticed. But I can do this; I will, tomorrow, I swear.”

____

The computer dinged; Pia turned hir attention back to it. “Yes, you will,” sie stated coolly, the threat in hir words bubbling just beneath the surface, “For now, deal with Dib.”

____

The human hastily made xyr way to xyr progenitor’s cell. The boy was seated in the far right corner, tear and blood tracks marred his tawny skin. The clone could see the slightest hint of bone poking through his shirt. Xe fought back the sudden urge to vomit as xe input the code for the door, slowly entering the room. Dib’s head shot up, “What do you want.” Venom dripped from his voice.

____

A strange tightness took hold of the fake’s chest as xe spoke, “You are injured; I’m here to treat you.”

____

Dib scoffed, “What? Too proud to let me bleed out on my own? Need to finish me off yourself?” The human sighed, kneeling down to remove the boy’s shirt and address his wounds, “Pia wants you alive; I won’t question that. You… should be glad.”

____

Dib laughed weakly, “Oh, yeah, sure. Some, freaky, defective, Irken-”

____

The fake quickly clapped a hand over the boy’s mouth, “You can’t say that. Sie could hear you…” Dib bit xyr hand. Xe drew back with a hiss, glaring daggers at the human in front of him.

____

____

* * *

____

____

“Do you even have a name?”

____

“What?” the clone asked, perplexed.

____

“Did Pia give you a name?” Dib clarified.

____

The human returned xyr attention to the boy’s shoulder, “No. I don’t need one; I’m not a person.” Xe saw Dib clench his fists.

____

“I need something to call you.”

____

The fake arched a brow at him, “Why?” 

____

“Because I don’t like calling you my clone, it’s gross,” Dib responded shortly.

____

The human clenched xyr teeth, “I know what you’re doing; I’d do the same thing. But that isn’t going to work; I am not defective.” Dib grunted in pain as the clone finally managed to set his shoulder.  
“I’m going to call you Moth.”

____

Moth… xe sighed, “That’s not surprising.”

____

Dib turned to rest his head on the wall, “I know.”

____

____

* * *

____

____

Moth stood at the threshold of the Membrane house, strangely uncomfortable with the idea of stepping inside. Still, Pia had ordered xem to familiarize xemself with the dwelling, so that’s what xe would do. Xe took Dib’s keychain out of xyr pocket and mechanically inserted the house-key into the lock and entered Dib’s home. Xe looked around, eyes flitting around from wall to wall, frame to frame, soaking in the empty halls. Xe had to stop and let xyr pak process the conflicting information from the house Moth could remember growing up in, but had never entered before. Xe waited patiently for the whirring to subside, hoping that no one was in the house to hear. Xe walked forward slowly, not really sure where xe was going.

____

Xe found xemself standing at the foot of Professor Membrane’s bed, staring at the untouched sheets. It looked so desolate, so wrong. A bed where no one slept in a room where no one lived. How long had it been since the Professor had set foot in this room? Dib’s memories suggested that it must have been a year at least. What was the point of the lavish satin sheets, the plush pillows, the memory foam mattress, if no one ever used them? Xe reached out to brush xyr hand over the cold bedspread, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. The room was soulless, more so even than the icy rejuvenation chamber Moth was used to. Xe shivered, hastily leaving the room and making xyr way down the hall.

____

Now Moth had stopped by Gaz’s door. Xe cautiously looked inside; this room, too, was empty. Xe stepped inside, running xyr fingertips along the doorframe. Moth inhaled deeply, enjoying the familiar scent. The smell brought to mind late nights Dib and Gaz had spent together, playing video games, building robots, coming up with plans to finally defeat Zim. Xe glanced over at the old blanket fort Gaz had made with Zim in middleskool; the Euphortress of Solitude they’d called it- Moth chuckled as xe recalled the name. A place where the three retreated when Dib was having a particularly... bad day. It was warm and soft and never failed to calm Dib down. Moth could remember long nights of talking about nothing and everything on Urth until the two humans fell out from exhaustion. Xe could remember waking up in a cool, alien embrace, one which would always be vehemently denied, of course. The clone wondered if that would be different now… A horrible tightness took hold of Moth’s chest and for a moment xe wondered if xe would pass out.

____

Finally, Moth stood in Dib’s room. The place smelled hollow. All cologne and strawberries with no man behind it. The bed was unmade, the lampshade askew, the desk overflowing with work. There were broken pens in the wastebasket, the ink already removed and teeth marks covering every centimeter. Posters hung haphazardly on the walls, fairy-lights casting an eerily warm glow on them. The room was so cold. The human forced back the bile in xyr throat and made xyr way to the desk. Xe sat down in the worn chair, cringing at the loud crack from the backrest; xe logged into the battered laptop in front of xem. Moth didn’t really know what xe was doing until xe found xemself looking at a direct line to the Resisty- Scuadron 478. Tak and Skoodge. Xyr cursor hovered over the call button, instincts screaming for xem to press it. How long had it even been since Dib called them last? Not in four years, at least. After all, they were only his crisis center; the people Dib ran to when he couldn’t go to Gaz or Zim. A familiar pang of guilt struck Moth’s gut as xe closed the laptop.

____

“What’s wrong?” Moth jumped up at Gaz’s voice.

____

Xe swallowed thickly, “Nothing.”

____

Gaz raised an eyebrow at xem. “That’s bullshit,” she walked over and sat on the edge of Dib’s bed, “I saw you about to call Tak, so something’s up and you’re either gonna tell me about it, or we’re gonna go to the living room and watch shitty horror movies till you feel better.”

____

Moth smiled joylessly, guilt tearing at xyr chest for reasons xe didn’t understand. “Living room?” xe asked tiredly.

____

“Living room,” Gaz affirmed. She got up and motioned for Moth to follow her.

____

____

Moth couldn’t stir xemself, not while Gaz lay snoring lightly on xyr shoulder. She’d fallen asleep hours ago, in the middle of Jason X. The movie ended and she didn’t stir. For some reason, Moth didn’t have the heart to wake her, so xe just sat there, waiting until it was late enough to go to sleep. The clone checked xyr watch, beginning to wonder why the Professor hadn’t returned yet. A deep pit opened in Moth’s stomach when xe remembered that Membrane wouldn’t be home, though xe wasn’t sure why.

____

The clock struck eight and Moth gave up on waiting for Gaz to wake up, resigning xemself to spend the night on the couch. Not that it mattered; xe wouldn’t have been able to sleep in Dib’s room anyway.

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, please leave any thoughts/suggestions in the comments! Also, I am really struggling with figuring out how to format this properly, so if you have any suggestions on that PLEASE tell me. Thank you again, have a good day/night!
> 
> Added notes: I tried to be all mysterious and vague about Moth but it didn't really work I don't think, so to avoid confusion, some things about Moth: Xe is Dib's clone, but xe's an imperfect clone and xyr aging process was sped up so xe was grown in about a year. Xe is mentally and physically 18, but xe has only existed as a conscious person for two years. Xe has Dib's memories because Pia transferred them to xem after they kidnapped Dib. Pia is trying to use Zim to conquer Urth, and sie is using Moth to manipulate Zim. If you have any further questions, please ask, I'm not all that great at making sense sometimes lol


	4. Locked In

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was at this moment that I realized how misleading the titles of these chapters are... titles are hard. Anyway, I wanted to say that there is a short discussion between Zim and Dib about alien religions using some mildly religious language; if that sort of thing is uncomfortable for you, it starts with "Crossing?" and ends with "Granted, only defective Irkens practice, but still." so feel free to skip it. Other than that, I would like to note that the person I had beta reading these has chosen to stop so for the foreseeable future there will be no beta. Without further adieu, enjoy the chapter.

“Whatcha doin?” the Sir-Unit asked for the twelfth time that hour. Zim didn’t really mind though, still too lost in the previous evening’s high to be annoyed… or to really be doing any actual work. 

He sighed, “Zim was trying to work on something for the Dib.” 

Gir’s eyes brightened and he jumped up, clapping, “Ooh! A present! Can I wrap it? Ple-ase!” Zim winced, Gir’s screaming stinging his antennae slightly. 

“When it’s finished,” the Irken promised, “You may wrap it then. For now though, Zim will be taking a break; you may join him.” Zim started down the hall, towards the elevator.

Gir skipped after him, clapping enthusiastically. “What we gon do?” he asked once he was by Zim’s side. 

The Irken cracked his suddenly tired joints, humming lowly in thought, “Zim isn’t sure… We will probably just watch a movie.” 

The Sir-Unit nodded seriously, “What movie?” Zim looked down at the little robot for a minute and winched; he was going to regret this.

“What would you like to watch, Gir?” 

The robot in question gasped, synthetic smile stretching across his face, “We gon watch da shoe movie!”

* * *

“Why should this ‘Tin Man’ fear these pathetic wood-beasts; he has no flesh for them to eat. Urth animals do not hunt for sport! This is ri-” 

Gir cut him off abruptly, “Shush. The kitty man is about to show up.” Zim grumbled but turned his attention back to the screen, where there was indeed a man in lion pajamas emerging from the woods. Predictably, Gir had chosen to watch something completely nonsensical; though, Zim was enjoying the film. Discluding the vexatious singing, of course. Speaking of which… “Sing wit da kitty, Masta!” Gir screamed into Zim’s antennae, grabbing his face and pulling himself up to look him in the eyes.

“Zim would rather not-”

“Si-ing! Sing! Sing sing sing!”

Zim sighed, prying the little robot off his face, “Fine. Zim will sing with the ‘kitty’, now sit down.” Gir nodded happily and clapped his hands before returning to his spot on the floor… upside down, for some reason. Zim returned his gaze to the television screen just in time to see Dorothy smack the “lion” square in the nose. Zim fought back the urge to laugh, not wanting to interrupt the scene since Gir seemed to be enjoying it so much. Presumably, bouncing in a circle on his head and clapping was a sign of enjoyment. Zim’s antenna perked up at the familiar notes sounding from the TV. Gir’s clapping ceased and he flipped himself over.

He crawled up on the couch next to Zim and began jumping on the cushion. “We gon sing now!” he excitedly shouted.

Zim sighed, “Yes, Gir, we will. Now, please stop jumping on the couch; Zim doesn’t want to-”

“Sh! Singing!” Gir sat down on the couch and joined in with the actor on screen, “Witout da vim n’ voive! Sing, Masta! Lion not a mouwse!”

Zim sighed, “Fine, fine. Eh, I’m afraid there’s no denyin’; I’m just a dandelion, a fate I don’t deserve.”

“I’d be brave as a blizzard, I’d be gentle as a lizard.” 

Zim jolted at the feeling of nimble fingers on the base of his antennae. He turned around to find Dib standing next to the couch, smiling at him. The boy leaned an elbow on the back of the couch and set his chin on his fist, “Hey, Spaceboy.”

Zim huffed at him, embarrassed, “You’re paying for the window.”

Dib laughed and moved to lift Gir off the couch, “Computer let me in, actually, so the windows are safe for now.” Zim nodded and moved over a bit to make room on the couch. Dib sat down with Gir sitting on his chest and put an arm around Zim’s shoulders. Zim leaned into the touch and tentatively entwined his antennae with Dib’s cowlick. Dib began making small circles on the Irken’s collar with his thumb in return. 

Gir spun around to face Dib, seemingly just realizing he was there. “Hi Mary!” he yelled in the human’s face, waving excitedly at him.

“Hey, Gir,” Dib responded, giving a small wave of his own. 

“We singin’ wit da kitty-man!” 

“I can see that. Mind if I sit in?” Dib asked as he sunk a little more comfortably into the couch. Gir nodded briefly before sliding down to sit on Dib’s lap while he watched the movie. Zim smiled at his human’s tender treatment of the little robot. He raised a hand to hold the one on his collar and nervously laid his head on Dib’s shoulder. The boy linked their fingers and hummed in approval before turning to plant a small kiss on the Irken’s head. Zim purred and nuzzled into Dib’s shoulder a bit in response. He smiled, a few soft chirps slipping past his lips, as he turned back to the film.

* * *

Zim hissed and pulled his hand away from the kitchen faucet. He turned the heat down and grabbed Gir’s popcorn bowl and the bottle of dish soap. His antennae twitched backwards at the sound of footsteps behind him. “Why, on god’s green Urth, is that blue?” Dib worriedly asked, looking over Zim’s shoulder into Gir’s used-to-be-white bowl. 

The Irken shrugged, “Zim has no idea.” 

Dib glanced back at Gir’s sleeping form. He shrugged, “Anyway… Do you know what Locke and Ki is?”

Zim arched a brow at him, “Yes? It’s some… entertainment house uptown.”

Dib chuckled lightly, “Close enough. It’s an escape room; supposed to be pretty cool. And since it’s the owners’ anniversary next week, they’re having a couple’s special. So I thought, maybe you’d want to go… with me, obviously.”

Zim’s throat went suddenly dry and that familiar tightness settled on his breast. He swallowed as he set Gir’s bowl in the drying rack. He wiped his hands off on a towel and turned to Dib. “Are you asking Zim out?” he asked, doing his best to mask the excitement in his voice. 

Dib nodded, “Yeah. Not that it has to be a date, but... I’d like it to.”

* * *

Zim stood in the entryway of an artificial garden pavilion. Actors in strange looking vintage clothes mulled around and talked amongst themselves. Zim’s antennae twitched under his wig, eavesdropping on the nearest conversation. “That’s the way that the Way of the When is, darling. Who am I to question it?”

“Surely, but-”

“Are you doing alright?” Dib asked worriedly, his grip on Zim’s hand tightening a little.

Zim smiled and squeezed back, “Zim is fine, just listening to those two over there. They’re arguing about... something.”

Dib nodded and giggled a little, “Yeah, apparently the game hosts just tell them to say whatever they want as long as the players can’t hear them that well. I remember Keef saying that he heard two actors just standing there saying ‘watermelon’ over and over again last time he was here.” Zim chuckled, imagining the stiff looking actors around him all repeating watermelon for no apparent reason.

“So, is that who you heard about this place, from Keef?” Zim asked. 

Dib nodded, “Yeah. He told me about it in Dr. Torrez’s waiting room. Apparently his parents know the owners.”

Zim hummed in acknowledgment as he watched an actor in a pink waistcoat and white rabbit’s ears take a pocket watch out of his breast pocket. “I’m late!” the man exclaimed, “I’m late! Oh, I’m terribly late!” He shoved the watch back in his pocket and ran through an opening between some fake trees.

Dib gestured towards the opening, “I think that’s our queue.” Zim nodded and started forward. 

The sides of the hallway they were walking down had trees painted on them and there were fake branches hanging from the ceiling. Somewhere, a speaker was emitting the ambient noise of a forest. Most of the painting were very well done, but Zim still couldn’t help chuckling at one of a squirrel with cartoonish, bulging eyes. He noticed a large tree sticking out from the back wall out of the corner of his eye, which he probably wasn’t supposed to see yet considering the actor in the waistcoat was still standing there waiting for them. They walked about another yard before the actor opened a trapdoor and jumped down. Dib raised a brow at the noise but didn’t say anything. 

They stood at the base of the tree, a sculpture protruding about two and a half feet from the wall at its widest, looking down a small lock and handle on the floor. “Alright,” Dib stepped back, “so we need a key. We don’t really have any actual clues yet, so it probably just has something to do with the tree, right? Think there’s any hidden compartment in the trunk or something like that?” 

Zim hummed, thinking about the times he’d watched Alice in Wonderland with Gir. “Didn’t the film start with Alice sitting in a tree?” he asked, “Perhaps the key is also sitting in the branches.” Dib shrugged and reached up into the top of the sculpture. He ran his hand along the largest branch for a moment before pulling a small key out of the crook where the branch met the rest of the tree. 

He clapped Zim on the back lightly, “Thought I was supposed to be the investigator here.”

Zim rolled his eyes, “And Zim thought the Dib would have noticed something that obvious; apparently we’ve both been giving you too much credit.” He elbowed Dib in the side and took the key from him. Dib just rolled his eyes back. Zim opened the trap door and narrowed an eye at the dark abyss that greeted him. He could see about four feet down, where it looked like the opening might have a turn in it, which meant that Dib could only see for about a foot.

“Can you see how far it goes?”

“Not all the way, but it looks like it turns. Zim thinks it might be a slide or something of the like.” 

Dib nodded, “After you, then.” Zim shrugged and slid down, hearing Dib come down after him a few feet later. They took a sharp turn and the slide opened up, revealing several paintings, pieces of furniture, clothes, tea sets, and a piano that were hanging from the ceiling. The lights flashed from blue to green to purple before the slide closed and Zim and Dib were traveling in darkness again. They shot out onto a large cushion. 

Zim looked around, taking in the decorations in the room and trying to figure out which ones might help them get out. “Tetradecagon room, six doors minus the one with the slide, table in the middle, two couches, three lamps, one chandeliers, five paintings, and seven bookshelves,” he turned to Dib who was still trying to crawl off the landing cushion. He giggled when the human accidentally rolled back into the center with a surprised yelp. “Is Zim missing anything?” he asked as he helped Dib up.

Dib dusted himself off and looked around, “Doesn’t look like it, but the important question is who knows the word for a fourteen-sided room?”

Zim shrugged, “Someone who has lived in several of them, for one.”

“Zim, your house is a square.”

Zim rolled his eyes, “Zim’s room, where he nests, is a tetradecagon. As were his quarters during Invader Training and on Vort.”

Dib walked around the edge of the room, “Do Irkens just have a thing for circles or…”

“Eh?”

Dib rattled one of the door handles, “I mean, your beds are all circles, sounds like your bed-rooms are all basically circles, you do that weird circle-drawing thing sometimes-”

“Crossing?”

Dib turned around, “What?”

Zim sighed, “It’s crossing yourself, basically. And it certainly isn’t Irken.”

“Then what is it?”

Zim hummed, “Zim hasn’t tried to find a word for it… It’s a religion. It’s very popular, especially on Vort, which is where Zim learned about it. It’s a bit like if being Agnostic were an organized religion. The basic idea is that there’s something out there that created us, and there’s somewhere that we go when we die. That’s really it. Different places have different ways of practicing it. Some just pray on occasion, some have proper ceremonies, superstitions, and traditions based on it, and some are in between. And then there are some, like the mighty Zim, who have picked up some habits from it, even if they don’t believe in it.”

Dib raised a brow, “Isn’t that like, cultural appropriation?”

Zim shook his head, “No, it’s almost like another denomination in a way. Part of this belief system is that prayers being answered, blessings working, and so forth is based on morality, not if you believe in them or not. They encourage people to do things like crossing themselves or singing hymns regardless of if they believe or not. People who don’t believe are still a part of the religion because everyone is.”

“And… the Empire allows that?”

Zim laughed, “Of course not, especially not for Irkens, but when has whether or not a religion is allowed meant anything? You can’t just squash an ages old religion by outlawing it; people still practice in secret, even Irkens. Granted, only defective Irkens practice, but still.” 

“Cool.”

Zim shrugged and walked to the table in the center of the room, Dib followed. The Irken squinted at the quarter-sized hole in the center. He dug a claw inside but couldn’t find anything. He squatted down to look under the table, “Zim has found a key.”

“Hmm?” Dib joined him under the table, “Oh, umm… Do you think we can flip the table over and shake it out.” 

Zim stood up and jostled the table. He shook his head, “Technically, Zim could rip it off its bolts to do that, but that would probably defeat the purpose.”

Dib chuckled, “Yeah, probably. Okay, so since in the book Alice has to use a potion to shrink herself to get through the door, we probably need to find that.”

The Irken nodded, “In the 1951 film, a doorknob told Alice about the potion; maybe there’s a clue in one of the doors… probably the smallest one.” He made his way across the room to the smallest door and jiggled the handle. One of the screws loosened a bit and Zim twisted it the rest of the way out. “Hmm… Dib-beast!” he turned to see Dib scrutinizing one of the bookshelves, “Do any of those books look like they might have a screwdriver in them?”

Dib spun around to face him and then turned to walk towards a different bookshelf. “Umm, I think… over here… Ah, The Caboose Kids and the Mystery of the Silver Screwdriver, that sound about right?” He brought the book over and handed it to Zim. He opened it and let the Philips-head inside fall out into his hand. 

Zim began unscrewing the doorknob, “Zim hopes you know how to put this thing back on when he’s done.”

Dib scoffed, “Do you know how many times I’ve had to replace my entire door because of you? And you think I can't replace a doorknob?”

Zim smirked, “Zim had assumed the Dib and called upon the Gaz-sister for that.”

Dib punched him lightly in the arm, “Shut up.”

The unscrewed doorknob fell into Zim’s hand. He handed it off to Dib and dug a claw into the space behind it, drawing out a rolled up scrap of paper. “Talk to Dear Aunt Hathaway. What is that supposed to mean? Does this make any sense to you, Human?” Zim handed Dib the paper. 

Dib looked at the paper for a minute, brows furrowed in thought. “I think…” he stood up and returned to the bookshelves, “There was a cookbook on one of these by Aunt Someone… Come help me look for it. I think it was around here somewhere…” 

Zim dug into the side of the doorknob hole, looking for a way to open the door but coming up empty. “Dib-Stink, this little door is fake.”

Dib looked back at him, “Okay so either there’s another place to put the knob or the key goes to a different door. Anyway, according to this book, the potion should be.. Behind that bookshelf.” He spun around and pointed at a shelf on the far wall. Zim moved to the shelf and shoved it aside, knocking a few books out in the process. Dib smiled and dramatically crossed his arms and shook his head, “Tut tut, so aggressive; bookcases have feelings, too, you know.”

Zim shouldered him playfully, “Only in the Dib’s world. Zim worries about the things in that blimpish-” 

The human cut him off with a peck just in between his eyes, where the bridge of his nose would be if he had one. He smirked at the Irken’s rising blush, “Sorry, what was that?”

Zim cleared his throat and snatched up the bottle of clear liquid from the newly revealed hole in the wall. He marched to the table, trying to get the heat of his cheeks to die down. He cleared his throat again, “Alright, so we pour this into that hole and the key comes out; do you think we’re missing anything?”

Dib crouched down to look at the bottom of the table again. He shook his head as he came back up, “No, I think that’s it. All that should be left after this is to find where that key actually goes.”

Zim nodded, “Good.” He began pouring the liquid into the table. It came out lethargically, like cooking oil. Zim stuck out his tongue, “Blech… Dib will be handling the this key.”

Dib chuckled, “Sure thing, Spaceboy.” 

After half a minute or so, the key finally blipped to the surface and Dib plucked it out of the table. He turned to the doors behind them. He nodded to Zim, “Pick a door, any door.”

The Irken looked at the key, “That’s too small to fit any of the other doors.” 

Dib shrugged and picked the forgotten doorknob off the table. He tried the key, turning to Zim when it slid perfectly into the key-slot, “Okay, new plan: find where we need to put this knob.”

Zim nodded and returned to the little door. He knocked on the wall above the door and was rewarded with a hollow thud. He straightened and ran his claws along the wall, moving outward until they caught on something, a seam, at the corners where the walls met. He hooked his claws under them and pulled. A plastic panel popped off of the door behind it, where there was a doorknob with the front missing. He motioned for Dib, “Come, Stinky, Zim has found the door! Victory for Zim!”

Dib snorted, “I can see that; do you wanna move out of the way so I can put this knob in?”

“No.” Zim moved.

Two rooms later, they were running through garden of plastic white-painted-red-rose trees, trying to figure out which exit would actually get them out rather than loop them back into the garden while actors in playing card themed uniforms chased them with plastic spears. Dib pointed to an exit about two yards in front of them, “Sixth time’s the charm, right?” Zim rolled his eyes but followed anyway.

Five yards in and they weren’t turning yet, which was a good sign, as was the fact that the lights were dimming and had taken on a blue tinge. They walked a few more feet until they were standing in front of a large mirror. Zim turned to Dib, “So what now?” The human shrugged and pushed on the mirror. It spun inward and Dib almost fell flat on his face. Zim cackled, “Excellent job, Human, you’ve found the most pitiful way to open a door!” 

Dib got up, trying to look upset through his barely contained laughter, “Shut up!” He lightly pushed on Zim’s pak, making the Irken stumble forward and try to catch himself on the mirror, which immediately gave way so he tumbled to the ground anyway. Dib laughed as he reached down to help Zim up, “Oh my god, man, are you okay?”

Now it was Zim’s turn to try pulling an angry face. He gasped dramatically, “You dare to push me, the mighty Zim, to the ground? And on our first date? Zim should take your eyes for that,” he snatched Dib’s glasses off his face and held them over his own eyes, “but these will have to do.” 

Dib glared good-naturedly at him through squinted eyes, “Come on, man, I need those.” 

Zim chuckled darkly and held out Dib’s glasses, “Take them then.”

Dib somehow managed to narrow his eyes even further but didn’t say anything. He cautiously stepped forward, stopped, and made a mad grab for the glasses. He missed, outstretched hand flying to Zim’s left. The Irken caught his wrist and pulled him forward. Dib stumbled and started to fall when Zim caught him by the shoulder, planted a quick kiss on the boy’s lips, replaced his glasses, steadied him, and then disappeared through the mirror-door. 

Zim jogged about fifteen feet into a winding hall of mirror before coming to a stop at a fork in the path. He didn’t bother trying to choke back his purrs and chirps and they flowed from his lips like they were making up for lost time. He touched his forehead to the cool glass, enjoying the feel of it on his warm skin. He could hear the screaming ringing between his ears as he struggled to compose himself. His antennae twitched under his wig when the sound of Dib’s footfalls began echoing down the hall. Zim took a deep breath and shakily let it out. He straightened and turned around to wait for Dib. 

The human jogged up to Zim with an idiotic smile oh his face. “Hey.”

Zim couldn’t help his pleased grin, “What took so long, Urth-stink?”

Dib didn’t answer. Instead, he closed the distance between them and gave Zim a soft, tentative kiss on the lips. He pulled away smirking, “Funny how I can still see you blushing these with so little light.”

Zim groaned and buried his head in his hands, “Silence, Dib-beast.”

Dib giggled as he linked arms with Zim. The Irken laced their fingers together and they started making their way through the mirror-maze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. As always, please leave any feedback you have in the comments. Also, does anyone know how to indent paragraphs on here? because I just can't seem to figure it out for some reason so some times they'll be indented and other times they won't and just... ugh. Other than that, have a wonderful day/night!


	5. Headaches and Premonitions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've peaked with this title. The urge to write Zim speaking in third person was so strong, but alas he was too sick to defy English speaking conventions. Seriously, Zim consistently speaking in first person is cursed. Anyway, warnings for nightmares, explosions, and nausea. Nothing too extreme, and no actual vomiting.

Zim jolted awake for the fifth time that night. His head was pounding and his pak whirred in discontent. “Computer!” he groaned at the harshness of his own voice, “What time is it?”

“O’ one-hundred hours, Master.”

Zim collapsed back into his nest, “That’s too early.”

Computer sighed, “Then go back to sleep.”

Zim glared at the ceiling, “Obviously, I’ve already tried that and it isn’t working.” He whimpered a little at the pressure the expression put on his aching skull. 

Computer hummed worriedly, “Maybe you’re sick? I can take you down to one of the labs for a bio-scan.”

Zim tensed, antennae lowering in apprehension. He swallowed thickly, “No… the lab is too loud… and bright… Maybe later, but right now my head hurts too much. I will just… rest for a moment.”

“Of course, Master… as you wish,” Computer reluctantly responded.

Zim curled into himself and took his throbbing antennae in his hand. He tried to rub them the way Dib had, hoping to alleviate some of the pain, but he kept accidentally catching them with his claws, only making the pain worse. He quit after a few tries and hugged his knees to his chest. He tentatively closed his eyes, relaxing a little when he was greeted by darkness rather than flame. He breathed deeply, doing his best to fully relax his muscles. “Okay,” he whispered to his mattress, “I’m going to go back to sleep. I’m not going to have any nightmares; I’m not going to have any dreams at all. And then, I’ll wake up and this infernal headache will be gone.” He pulled his blankets above his chin and sunk as far as he could into his nest, and he fell asleep.

[[]]

_ Zim is running through a field. The grass is burning all around him and it’s all he can do to keep is clothes from catching fire, too. His chest is burning, his antennae sting, his pak is clicking and humming loudly. He sees the edge of the field; he sees an old, cracked parking lot. He sprints to it as fast as his burning legs will carry him. He crumples to his knees once he hits the pavement, greedily taking in the marginally cleaner air. _

_ The blacktop begins to crumble, a great chasm opening just to Zim’s left and quickly rushing toward him. Zim cries out as he pushes himself up and wills his exhausted limbs to run. He makes it only a few feet before falling to the ground. He claws his way forward on his stomach but he knows he’ll never make it. He calls out his last word. “Dib!” he screams. He feels the ground around him begin to give way and his body is wracked with grief-stricken sobs. _

_ A hand has taken his own. It is big and strong and gentle even as it drags him across the lot. He looks into his human’s eyes and finds the strength to stand. He limps along with the boy until they come to a disgustingly familiar building. They bolt for the old Skool entrance, now boarded up and defunct. They pry the doors open and collapse inside. Gaz and the Professor force the doors closed again and Zim becomes very conscious of the fact that he’s out of his disguise. But Membrane only lifts him up and helps support him as they make their way down the hall to his old classroom. _

_ The walls are cracked and smeared with dirt and blood. The chalkboard is covered in claw marks and the windows are barred. The desks are overturned and broken. Zim chokes back a sob as a thundering explosion sounds outside. The humans are speaking but he can’t tell what they’re saying. His mouth is full of cotton when he tries to ask and nobody hears. He hobbles forward and takes his mate’s hand. Dib smiles at him even as tears trail down his dirt-covered face. Zim removes his shattered glasses and looks into his eyes. “Dib…” he whispers mournfully.  _

_ The boy sobs, “Zim… I thought I’d lost you… I thought I lost you…” He hugs the Irken to his chest. Zim cannot talk, so he only draws his human closer. _

_ “You could have stopped this.” _

_ “Gazlene…” _

_ “You could have saved us. Why didn’t you save us?” Gaz sobs. The sound grates on Zim’s antennae. He wants to apologize. He wants to beg forgiveness. He wants to turn back the clock; do it all again, the right way. He wants to save them. He wants to save them… _

[[]]

Zim woke in a pool of his own sweat, sobs still ravaging his body. He grabbed wildly for  _ something  _ to anchor him. His hand landed on his phone and without thinking he dialed Dib. One ring. Two rings. Three. “Hello?” Dib answered groggily.

Zim cried in relief, “Dib! You’re okay! You’re okay…”

“Zim?” the human asked startled, “Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

Zim shook his head before realizing Dib couldn’t see him, “No… I- I’m not. My skull is splitting open and I’ve had the most horrible dreams all night and I thought you were… I thought you were…” He broke off into incoherent sobbing.

“I’m coming over.”

* * *

“Thanks, Computer.”

“Whatever.”

Dib cautiously stepped into the room and set his bag down. “Zim?”

“M’ over here,” the Irken mumbled.

Dib made his way to Zim’s bedside. Zim curled further in on himself , half-heartedly massaging the bases of his antennae and distantly wishing he’d had the sense to put on… anything, actually. Dib laid his wrist over Zim’s forehead; Zim leaned a little into the touch. Dib hummed and moved to check Zim’s pulse, “I don’t think you have a fever and your pulse seems normal… I dunno, maybe you’ve got food poisoning; that can cause some pretty intense nightmares.” Zim only groaned in response. Dib sighed, “Whatever’s going on, laying in your own sweat isn’t helping. I’m gonna go find you some new sheets… and clothes. Gaz has…  _ something _ she needs to leave out for at three, maybe I can get her to take Gir to the park for a while before then. Okay, I’ll be right back, alright?” Zim nodded.

Dib got up and walked quietly out the door before sprinting down the hall. Zim chuckled lightly.  _ Well, he tried _ . He settled as comfortably as he could into his wet sheets and waited. 

A few minutes later, Dib tip-toed back into Zim’s room. He knelt down and lightly tapped Zim’s hand, “Hey. So, you don’t have any actual night-clothes, not that I could find anyway, but I did find this robe so there’s that,” he set it on the edge of the nest, “I did find clean sheets though, so I can change these out and you can go shower or-”

“No.”

Dib looked up, “Huh?”

Zim shook his head slightly, “It hurts too much to shower… I feel nauseous…”

“Oh…” Dib looked around the room, “Umm, do just not want me to change the bedding or…”

Zim whimpered and reached out towards the clean sheets.

Dib nodded, “Okay… How about I… set you on that couch by the bathroom? Then you can still rest while I change these out.” Zim nodded weakly. Dib smiled a little, “Okay... I’m gonna pick you up now.” Zim didn’t respond. Dib sighed, scooped him up and carried him carefully down the hall to the couch. He laid him down softly and kissed him on the forehead before darting back to Zim’s room. Zim sighed, enjoying the cool, dry air on his burning skin. He returned his hands to the bases of his antennae, gingerly rubbing the pads of his fingers against them.

Dib came back with Zim’s robe in hand. He crouched down, offering it to him, “Here, I forgot to give this to you earlier.”

Zim pushed his hand away, “It’s too hot.”

Dib’s eyes flickered from the garment in his hand to Zim’s heated face. Realization washed over the boy’s face, “ _ Oh _ . Yeah... No problem… I completely forgot how cold you were supposed to run… I’ll just, uh, leave this here then.” He set the robe down and slid his arms under Zim. He looked at him questioningly. The Irken nodded and Dib carried him gently back to his room. He set him on the bed and Zim nuzzled into them slightly. Dib stepped back, “Hey, Computer?”

“Ugh, what do you want?” they answered, veneer of annoyance slightly undermined by the softness of their tone.

“Do you know what’s going on here?” 

“No. He won’t let me do any medical scans, but he’s been shivering and sweating all night. He’s woken up several times before this… nightmares I think. He’s got a headache. I can’t tell you much more than that.”

Dib swallowed, “Okay… thanks. Gaz should be here soon to pick up Gir for a while so…”

Computer hummed in understanding, “I’ll keep him upstairs until then.”

“Thanks…” Dib muttered. He walked carefully back over to Zim. 

The Irken locked eyes with him and mustered a weak smile. “Thank you,” he murmured tiredly.

Dib hesitantly took his hand, “No problem, Spaceboy…” he bit his lip, “Look, I’m really out of my depth here, so uh… I don’t know what to do.”

Zim looked ashamedly at their linked hands, “Sorry…”

Dib sputtered, “What? No, that’s not what I- It’s really not a problem, I don’t mind, but I don’t know what you need me to do… I just want you to tell me what you need, that’s all.”

Zim still didn’t meet his eyes, “I feel sick… I don’t want to…”

Dib nodded, “Alright, so do you want me to bring you a bucket… or meds or…”

“Bucket.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back then,” He lightly kissed Zim’s hand and then left hurriedly. Zim looked anxiously at the door, immediately regretting sending his human away. He shivered, somehow still intensely feverish from the shoulders up, but freezing everywhere else. He drew his comforter up to his chest and closed his eyes.

Again, the door slid open and Dib slipped inside. He set the little trashcan he was holding down and took Zim’s hand. He cleared his throat, “All right, a bucket has been obtained, what else do you need?”

Zim gestured for the trashcan. Dib hastily complied and Zim leaned over it, fully expecting to throw up, but the wave of nausea passed just as soon as it came. He swallowed back the bile rising in his throat and looked back at Dib, “My head hurts so much, and my antennae… I tried to rub them myself but I just kept scratching them…” 

Dib smiled sympathetically at him, “Well, I’m here now, so I’ll do it for you, if you want.” 

Zim whimpered, “Please.”

Dib nodded, “Do you want to lay on me or…” Zim nodded feebly and gingerly sat up for Dib to get behind him. Dib carefully climbed into bed and sat with his back against the wall. He gently pulled Zim to him and placed a quick kiss between his antennae. “This good?” he whispered. Zim settled into him a little then nodded. He drew the trashcan and blankets close to his chest. Dib kissed the base of one of his antennae before gently taking them in his hands. Zim immediately melted into the touch with a relieved sigh. Dib chuckled lowly behind him, “I guess that’s good, then.” 

Zim chirped loudly in response. The tension behind his eyes was slowly subsiding, nausea completely forgotten. He pushed back a little toward Dib. The human obliged, moving his fingers a little more vigorously along the antennae, circling the bases with his thumbs when he reached them. Zim purred and relaxed completely into his lover’s arms. “Thank you,” he mumbled tiredly, eyelids becoming heavy.

Dib kissed the tip of one of Zim’s antennae lightly, “You’re welcome.”

Zim let his eyes close as he spoke, “Stay with me, please. Just for a while; just until I’m asleep. I don’t want to…”

Dib shushed him, “I’m here as long as you need me, Zim. As long as you  _ want _ me.”

  
Zim hummed, “Good.” The Irken exhaled and allowed his systems to quietly power down. Only one stayed on, a mission reminder. It ran one line.  _ Save them _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone should really tell Zim that his fever-nightmares are not in fact actual predictions of the future. As always, thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed! Feel free to leave any critiques/suggestions in the comment. Have a lovely day/night!


	6. Twenty Questions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really should have been finished a week ago; what did I do? On the bright side, I think this is considerably better than the first chapter I wrote not from Zim's perspective, which is nice.

“You useless wretch!”

Dib cringed at the all-too familiar sound of metal piercing flesh. Moth’s pained cry echoed down the hall as Pia struck xem again, followed by some mumbling Dib couldn’t understand. Then the low hum that followed Pia around hir base gradually retreated down the hall, and Dib let out a breath he didn’t remember holding. He sighed at the sound of Moth limping down the hall and scratched a mark on the wall with the side of his cuffs. He waited. 

The cell door slid open and Moth stepped inside. Dib’s eyes flitted over the gash along xyr jaw and the flourish of red blooming from xyr collar. He let his eyes fall and nodded to the marked wall, “Thirty-seven.”

Moth sat down on the wall opposite Dib. Xe produced a soda from xyr pak and handed it to him. “You sound like you’ve been eating sandpaper,” xe whispered, sounding tired. 

Dib set the soda down, gaze locked onto the blood gathering in the crook of his clone’s arm, but he took the hint.

Moth cracked a weary smile, “It’s not cold, but it’s something.” Moth popped the top off xyr own can and drank slowly. 

Dib let his eyes wander back up, studying Moth’s face, trying to reconcile the kid drinking soda in front of him with the person that dragged him down here three days ago. He couldn’t. 

Dib bit his lip, searching for something to say. He thought about what Gaz had told him about starting conversations however long ago and regurgitated the first thing that came to mind. “Those clothes look great on you, but do you know where they’d look better?” Moth set xry drink down and raised a questioning brow at Dib. Said human was simultaneously trying to melt into the wall behind him and resolutely smirking at the poor, unassuming individual in front of him, determined to finish what he started. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm; he winked, “On my bedroom floor.”

Moth blanched and Dib bit his tongue, trying not to laugh; he still wound up doubled over in his mirth. Moth, on the other hand, had inhaled some of xyr drink and seemed to be in the process of coughing up a lung. Dib let out a string of syllables that might have been “are you okay?” Moth nodded as best xe could while choking. Xyr sputtering eventually tapered off into laughter until xe could breathe well enough to speak, “Wha- pfft- what the hell?”

Dib smiled in faux innocence, “Ice-breaker.”

Moth chuckled, “Then consider the ice thoroughly broken, I guess.”

“You look like me when you smile,” Dib snickered at Moth’s confused expression. Eventually, xe smacked a hand over xyr forehead and ran it down xyr face. 

“You’re an idiot.”

Dib smiled, “Doesn’t that make you an idiot, too?”

“Exactly, it’s all your fault,” Moth said, feigning frustration. 

Dib chuckled, “Alright, then let me make it up to you. Ask me a question, and I’ll answer as best I can”

Moth looked incredulously at him, “I already know everything about you?”

Dib shrugged, “Ask me anyway.”

Moth shrugged back, “Okay, umm… how many tattoos do you have?”

Dib had to count out on his finger, “Uh, five, I think.”

Moth shook xyr head, “Six: the UFO behind your ear.”

Dib reached back and rubbed the spot behind his earlobe, “Oh yeah, I always forget about that one. Alright, my turn.”

“We’re taking turns?”

“Yep. Now, what’s your favorite number? And why?” 

Moth rolled xyr eyes but still seriously considered the question. “Fifteen,” xe decided, “It’s a very even odd number. It would be five, but fifteen just rolls off the tongue better.”

Dib was taken a little aback, “That’s actually different from mine: thirteen, how old I was when I came out.”

Moth paled, “Oh uh… yeah, that’s what I meant I just uh…”

Dib shushed xem, “No worries, It’s cool, and it makes sense.  _ My _ age when _ I _ came out and started transitioning doesn’t mean that much to _ you _ because, I mean, why  _ would _ it?”

Moth rubbed the back of xyr neck, “Yeah, I guess,” xe looked up at Dib and exhaled, “My turn then… Who’s your favorite musician?”

Dib laughed, “Shut up, I was twelve.” Moth just stuck xyr tongue out at him. Dib rolled his eyes, “Okay… what is your  _ worst _ guilty pleasure?”

“I watch Gaz sleep, sometimes,” Moth looked ashamedly at xyr feet, “I know that’s really weird.”

Dib shrugged, “I mean, depending on  _ why _ you’re watching, yeah.” Moth kept xyr eyes to the ground and nodded slightly. Dib rolled his eyes, “That  _ was _ an invitation, you know.”

Moth let out a breathy chuckle, “Sure, okay. I watch… to make sure she’s real, I guess.” Dib motioned casually for xem to continue. Xe inhaled deeply, “I have all your memories, but I’m not  _ you _ . ‘Remembering’ feels like… watching some dusty old tapes from some family I don’t even know the names of. It all feels real and not real at the same time. It doesn’t make sense…”

Dib moved to reach for Moth’s hand, but thought better of it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t know…” He trailed off, noticing Moth staring blankly at the wall above his head. He craned his neck to see if there was something above him, but there was nothing. He looked worriedly at Moth, “Hey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Moth ignored the question, face setting into an almost unreadable mask of cool anger. “What did you do to me?” xe asked unevenly.

Dib arched an incredulous brow, “What?”

The clone tapped xyr temple, “I was… right before. I was obedient…  _ functional _ … And then, you show up. And suddenly I have an entire life I never… and a family… And it hurts to be hit but- but in a  _ wrong _ way. And you- and I…” xe pulled at xyr cowlick and growled in frustration, “I don’t  _ want _ this.”

Dib studied Moth’s face, tracing dried tear tracks down xyr cheeks. He dropped his gaze as he spoke, “I never asked you to… download my memories. Pia did that. I only ever asked you to take care of Zim… I’m not sure I even needed to do that, though…”

Moth curled in on xemself at Zim’s name, burying xyr head in xyr knees. Xe swallowed thickly, “He’s sick… Pia said he would be, but sie never mentioned the nightmares… sie didn’t tell me how bad it would be.”

Dib’s eyes shot up. “How  _ bad _ is bad?” his voice trembled with worry.

Moth refused to meet his gaze, “He called m- you, at one-thirty in the morning. He was scared,  _ crying _ . When I answered… He thought something happened to you, that you were hurt… And I  _ cared _ .”

Dib bit his lip, a wonderful, terrifying idea burning in his brain and a question bubbling in his throat like tar. Moth studied the boy’s face morosely. Xe sighed and moved to get up. “Wait,” Dib blurted out; Moth settled back down and nodded at him, “It’s my turn again. Do you love them,  _ any _ of them?”

Moth faltered. Xe looked wildly around the room, searching for help or checking for eavesdroppers, Dib couldn’t tell. Finally, Moth set xyr face and locked eyes with Dib. “No,” xe spoke in a wooden, practiced tone, “I do not feel anything, certainly not for any lower lifeforms or for a- for a disgrace like Zim. I am a tool of the Empire and I. Am not.  _ Defective _ .” Xe shot up and hurriedly retreated from Dib’s cell before the boy could react.

* * *

Dib stared at the door for a long time, thinking about thinking. The sound of Pia’s humming broke him out of his stupor as the door slid open and a dripping cluster of black moved into the room and dumped Dib’s food on the floor. He tensed, eyes fixed on the overturned tray. He glared at the knot of sleek, metal vines in the doorway, “Where is-”

Pia cut him off, “That is none of your concern, One.” 

Dib bristled at the eerie monotony of the robot’s voice, but he didn’t bother pressing the issue and after a moment the door closed again and Pia’s humming faded out of earshot. Dib leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. “What am I gonna do?” he muttered to the darkness around him. He grabbed the spoon out of the mess that was his dinner and stared at it. The same sharp-edged utensil Moth had caught him with the day before. He smiled to himself as he started filing the edges on the walls, “Thanks... I’ll return the favor, someday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moth is a king of two things: oversharing and cognitive dissonance.


	7. Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quite like this chapter, even though it's pretty short. Unfortunately, this will probably be the last chapter for a while. For some reason my motivation to write for this has just sort of dropped off. I still really want to finish this but I'm just really having trouble actually doing that. I don't know what's up but I'm not going to stress out over it. Who knows, maybe it's the stress that's giving me pause in the first place. I really hope that I do manage to get back to this eventually, but only time will tell.

Moth breathed deeply, enjoying the sweet Spring air. Xe listened complacently to the bustling city around xem, catching snippets of conversation every now and then. Petty squabbles and mundane pleasantries mixed nicely with faint car-horns and sputtering motors. Moth floated down the street, letting the last week and a half be washed away for a moment. 

Then xyr hand landed on the Membranes’ door and the moment ended. Xe glanced over xyr shoulder, indulging in the idea of turning around and going back to Zim’s. But xe blinked the notion away. Zim was probably already busy deep-cleaning the base anyway. Moth turned back to the door, only a little surprised that Gaz had already opened it. Xe opened xyr mouth to greet her, but she cut xem off with a raised hand. “How’s your stupid boyfriend?” she asked, not looking up from the Gameslave in her hand. Familiar, leaden guilt tugged at the clone’s chest; boyfriend was quickly becoming xyr least favorite word. But xe did xyr best to shake the feeling away and hold on to xyr prior bliss. 

“He’s better,” xe answered, an honest smile lighting xyr face again. “Fever’s gone, headache’s died down, nausea’s gone. He’s back to talking in the third person _and_ he had the energy to scream his head off at me over the laundry. Zim’s pretty much... back to normal.”

Gaz opened one of her eyes skeptically, “So he just went from vomiting his guts out and moaning how he felt like _dying_ to just having a little headache _overnight_?”

Moth swallowed, the unsettling implications of Zim’s sudden recovery lying like a stone on xyr chest, but xe managed a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe that’s normal for Irkens?” xe offered.

Gaz shook her head as she moved to let Moth in, “For Irkens, maybe, but Zim? Isn’t his pak, like, _broken_ ? Do you really think that’s how he would _naturally_ handle being sick?”

Moth cringed at Gaz’s choice of words, a part of xyr mind stirring angrily, but xe just sighed, shaking xyr head rigidly. “He’s… defective, sure, but I don’t think that would mess with his immune system. It’s more like it… changes his brain, sort of. Er, not really, it’s… hard to explain.”

Gaz closed her eye again, gave Moth a quick once-over, and stepped past xem to grab her keys. “I’m going out; don’t wait up.” She disappeared into the garage; Moth listened as the sound of her old Mercury faded down the road.

The house felt suffocatingly empty in her wake, the low humming of the refrigerator a poor substitute for the ever-moving buzz in Zim’s base; stale air fresheners a stark contrast to its strikingly clean scent. Moth fought back a sudden wave of nausea as xe started down the hall to Dib’s room. 

Xe tossed xyr overnight-bag into a corner and collapsed face first onto Dib’s bed, tiredness suddenly overtaking xem. The clone let xyr eyes drift closed, willing xemself to dream of something good for once.

[[]]

_Moth jolts awake as Dib’s car lurches to a stop at the base of a great forest; the wind rushing into the vehicle as Dib opens his door is warm and earthy. Moth stretches briefly before xyr door is pulled open for xem. Xe looks up Zim with a dreamy expression as the Irken taps his foot impatiently. Lethargically, Moth climbs out of the car and scans their new surroundings. The treeline blurs into the horizon, the ground into the trees, and the trees into themselves. Dib and Gaz are already standing at the entrance to the wood, waving the stragglers forward. “Hurry up, Moth-sibling,” Zim calls from a few steps ahead of xem, “Zim will not be left behind over a human that can’t work xyr own legs.”_

_Moth rolls xyr eyes and starts forward, enjoying the soft sound of grass bending beneath xyr feet. The two arrive at the edge of the forest, looking down a gentle slope leading into the dark. Fuzzy apprehension tugs at the clone’s belly, yet the blinding smiles of xyr companions are enough to drown it out. Wordlessly, effortlessly, they descend into the shadows._

_They walk in incomplete silence, Zim’s pak and the faint glow of his eyes their only light. Skittering creatures trace their path; whistling wind beckons them further. Moth hears the faint click of Dib’s camera at xyr side and turns to look at the boy next to xem. He turns the screen to xem, the soft glow of the display mimicking xyr own gleaming eyes. Moth smiles fluidly at Dib, xyr languid tongue half-heartedly venturing to conjure some form of compliment._

_Gaz elbows Dib as Moth walks absently into Zim. Both boys turn their gazes forward and freeze in the light of what they find. Ahead of them, the wood glows in every colour they know and in some they don’t. Luminous critters of all kinds mingle soundlessly in the bush. Zim steps into the light and begins to glow himself. The most gorgeous shade of pink Moth has ever seen adorns his face, his antennae, his soul. Gaz moves to join him and becomes ablaze with cosmic purples. Dib follows her and burns like a dancing flame, celestial shades of cool blue stark against his warm skin. Moth joins last, and lights with blazing amber. The light is warm and soft and washes the world away, washes the struggle away, the pain, the fear._

_And Moth knows the others feel it, too. Zim looks into xyr eyes and falls to the ground. Then Dib, then Gaz, and finally the clone xemself. They crumple into each other and sob. Moth tastes the salt and the sweet of xyr family’s tears and xe knows that they are joyful. The warmth, the light, the peace, it envelopes them. It is tangible. It cradles them, its lost children finally home. And the children remain, and forever will remain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this, I hope you've enjoyed. Hopefully there'll be a new chapter out sooner than I'm expecting. Thank you again and have a wonderful day/night!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed it! If you have any suggestions/critiques, please tell me! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated!


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